


In For The Long Run

by ash_mcj



Series: Random Gallavich [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gallavich, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Past Attempted Suicide (mentioned only), mickey singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8837104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj
Summary: Mickey had been with his hopeless romantic of a boyfriend Ian for five years now, so he figured it was about time to attempt some romance for him. Sugar cookies, a ring, and...Mickey singing a love song?





	

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics included in this story are from Paramore's song "Still Into You", which I believe works perfectly for Gallavich. The way Mickey sings it in this story is more along the lines of Ashley Tisdale's cover of the song. You should check both of those out; they are amazing!
> 
> This is both my first Oneshot and my first Gallavich story, so I hope I did okay. This was so fun to write! This is not beta-read, by the way.

“Where are we going?” Ian asked, holding his hands out, blindly trying to feel for any obstacles in his way.

“Somewhere.” Mickey told him, hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders to guide him through the streets. Letting him fall and break his face would've ruined their night. “If you touch the fucking blindfold, I’ll cut your hands off.”

“You told me that we weren’t doing anniversary presents, so what is this, exactly?” Ian wondered aloud.

“Why would we do anniversary presents when we're just _dating_? It’s not like we're married, or anything. The only anniversary presents needed at this stage are blow jobs and great sex.”

“Speaking of, we should use this blindfold later.” Ian smirked.

“Before any banging happens, we’ve gotta do something.” Mickey said, leading him across the baseball field.

“Mikhailo Milkovich, I’m blindfolded and you are leading me to some mysterious place, where something other than sex is in my future...if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were being romantic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Firecrotch.” Mickey said. He could feel his nerves start to act up as they reached the dugout. Mandy, who had been watching all the stuff her brother had set up (so no jackass would come steal their shit), stood up from the metal bench and gave him a thumbs up, before sneaking off. Mickey took a deep breath and untied Ian’s blindfold.

“Mickey.” Ian gasped, taking in his surroundings.

A blue blanket was laid on the dirt ground, littered with a variety of things. Ian’s eyes skimmed over the bowl of limes, salt-shaker, and vodka, before resting on the paper plate stacked high with sugar cookies--Ian’s favorite.

“Did you make these?” Ian asked, biting into one and moaning loudly. Mickey shot him a glare, knowing what he was trying to do. Mickey had shit planned for once in his life, and his horny-ass boyfriend needed to keep it in his pants for a few more minutes.

“Look, we both know that I’m not romantic or anything, but I know you love that sappy shit, so...I don’t know; don't expect me to do it again.”

“Mick, you don’t have to be romantic...I love you just the way you are.” Ian smiled, putting his hand on the side of Mickey’s face. Mickey almost told him to stop being such a fag, but he thought that might ruin the mood.

“The blanket and stuff wasn’t me being romantic. It’s so we have a place to lay while taking turns doing body shots off each other later, which will hopefully make us forget the embarrassing shit I’m about to do.”

Ian’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as Mickey walked over to the corner of the dugout and picked up an old black guitar.

“Is that a guitar?” Ian asked, a grin starting to form on his lips. _Was Mickey going to play something for him?_ Ian was silently praying that he would.

“No, fucktard, it’s a flute.” Mickey said sarcastically, sitting on the bench and making sure it was tuned correctly. “My mom taught Colin how to play when she was still alive, and he taught me.”

“What are you going to play?” Ian asked, sitting on the blanket, looking up at the older boy. The pure excitement in the redhead’s eyes made Mickey want to kiss him--or punch him for being such a sappy little shit, he wasn’t totally sure. Truth be told, Mickey couldn’t punch Ian, if he tried. The thought of hurting the most important person in his life made him sick.

“I heard this song on the radio or some shit and I...I’m not real good with feelings and words, so I thought I'd just... I don’t know, this was a stupid idea.” Mickey groaned, rubbing his palms down his face.

“No, no, Mickey, please. Play it.” Ian urged, scooting closer. _Mickey was going to sing to him?!_

“Don’t fuckin’ laugh at me, or I ain’t blowing you for a month.” Mickey warned. “I’m not claiming to be able to sing, or anything.”

A few seconds past, before Mickey took another deep breath to calm himself, and started playing.

 _“Count the years on one hand_  
_we've been together_  
_I need the other one to hold you_  
_Make you feel, make you feel better.”_

They had been sleeping together for five years, and officially together for three. Mickey was everything Ian could have ever hoped for. Mickey never signed up to be gay or have a batshit crazy Bipolar boyfriend. Everyone--Ian included--thought that Mickey would turn his back on him the second he started running off with babies and making pornos and becoming a coked-out club dancer. A normal person would leave. Ian’s shit wasn’t Mickey’s shit--he could leave whenever he wanted, but he didn’t. He never saw that as an option, not even for a second, because he absolutely, undeniably loved Ian.

 _“It's not a walk in the park_  
_To love each other_  
_But when our fingers interlock,_  
_Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it_  
_'Cause after all this time I'm still into you.”_

They grew up in the South Side, and there weren’t too many worse places to be gay. Terry, Svetlana, a couple of Mickey’s brothers, Lip, Fiona--everybody that was supposed to have their back was rooting against them from the very start, but somehow, they made it. They survived the beatings and the judgment and came out in each other’s arms. They came out strong. Sometimes when it felt like too much, all they’d have to do is hold hands or hug--hell, even _look_ at each other--and they knew it was worth it. At the end of the day, no matter how much shit they had been through, they knew they would come home to the same bed. The way Ian was able to wrap his arm around his boyfriend at night and feel Mickey shiver when he kissed the back of his neck made Ian sure of one thing: he absolutely, undeniably loved Mickey.

 _“I should be over all the butterflies_  
_But I'm into you_  
_And baby even on our worst nights_  
_I'm into you_  
_Let 'em wonder how we got this far_  
_'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all_  
_Yeah, after all this time I'm still into you”_

It had been five years since that scrawny, freckle-faced redhead came bursting into his room with a tire iron, ready to take him down. Four years since Terry had caught them, and Mickey realized that he was in love with the younger boy. Three years since he came out to a bar full of drunk, homophobic assholes. Two years since Ian tried to kill himself during a depressive period, and Mickey realized he would never be able to live without him. One year since Mickey realized he was going to propose to Ian someday.

 _“Recount the night that_  
_I first met your mother_  
_And on the drive back to my house_  
_I told you that, I told you that I loved ya_  
_You felt the weight of the world_  
_Fall off your shoulder_  
_And to your favorite song_  
_We sang along to the start of forever_  
_And after all this time I'm still into you”_

Ian felt tears spring to his eyes as he remembered walking home from this very dugout a few years prior, drunkenly singing ‘Love is a Battlefield’ at the top of his lungs with Mickey. That was the first night he felt like himself in months of medicine-induced numbness. The first night in months that he felt happy. That was when Ian knew Mickey wasn’t just his past and present--he was his future.

 _“I should be over all the butterflies_  
_But I'm into you_  
_And baby even on our worst nights_  
_I'm into you_  
_Let 'em wonder how we got this far_  
_'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all_  
_Yeah, after all this time I'm still into you”_

Mickey had no idea how he got so lucky with Ian Gallagher. That boy was funny, caring, hot as hell, a hopeless romantic--everything a person could ever wish for in a boyfriend, and he picked Mickey. For some odd reason, the brightest, kindest person in all of the South Side ended up falling for the mean, arrogant, neighborhood thug with more baggage than the luggage pick-up area in an airport. The crazy thing was, Ian thought _he_ was the one who didn’t deserve _Mickey._ He never understood why the older boy stuck around his crazy ass. He was a godsend, in Ian’s eyes. They managed to fall for each other every single day, and there was nobody that could deny: they were absolutely, undeniably in love.

 _“Some things just, some things just make sense_  
_And one of those is you and I_  
_Some things just, some things just make sense_  
_And even after all this time_  
_I'm into you, baby, not a day goes by_  
_That I'm not into you_  
_I should be over all the butterflies_  
_But I'm into you_  
_And baby even on our worst nights_  
_I'm into you”_

Mickey stopped singing and looked down at Ian, who by now, had tears streaming down his face. He put his guitar down and laughed. “Are you crying?”

“Fuck you.” Ian whispered, reaching up and grabbing the back of Mickey’s neck, pulling him down to his mouth. Mickey slipped his tongue past Ian’s lips and moaned as the younger boy sucked on it. He was pulled on top of Ian and the two of them laid back on the blanket, avoiding the food and vodka bottle scattered across it. “That was beautiful, Mick.”

“Shut up.” Mickey mumbled into his mouth.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Ian laughed, pushing him away slightly.

“Don’t fuckin' get used to me singing you love songs, Firecrotch. It ain’t gonna happen again.”

“Okay.” he chuckled breathlessly. “Is now when we do body shots?”

“There’s one more thing I need to do first.” Mickey said, worrying his bottom lip. Ian nodded encouragingly and Mickey moved off of him. He was starting to panic. _What if Ian said no?_ He reached into his pocket, finding the small box and shifted onto one knee.

“Mick…” Ian said, eyes wide as he realized what was happening.

“Ian fucking Gallagher,” Mickey started.

“It’s Clayton.” Ian cut in.

“I know that, Dipshit.” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Just shut up until it’s time to say ‘yes’, okay?”

Ian smiled and nodded. Mickey flipped open the box, revealing a nice silver band, which Ian knew he must have spent months saving up for. Ian put his hand over his mouth, before returning his eyes to Mickey.

“I know you're always worried that I’m gonna realize that I don’t want to deal with your disorder anymore, and leave. No matter how many times I assure you that I’m here, that I’m in this with you, you never believe me. I’m not in this because I feel bad for you, Ian, or think you need a babysitter, or because I feel like I owe you something. I’m in this because I’m into you. I will follow you through any door you go through. I’m in this for the long run, Firecrotch, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m in love with you, and I don’t want to live in a future without you in it. I don’t want Yev to live in a future without you in it. You are my future, Ian. So, now I’m going to ask you this, and all you have to say is yes or no. Preferably yes. I sang to you; it’s the least you can do.”

“Of course I’ll marry you, Mickey!” Ian exclaimed, kissing him quickly and taking the ring from the box to examine it. _Was this really happening?_ On the inside of the band, it read _‘Still Into You’._

“Thank fuck.” Mickey let out a shaky breath. “Now whenever you are having your stupid ass doubts about if I’m in this or not, you take that ring off and read that shit, okay? Read it twenty times a day--I don’t care--just read it over and over until you fucking believe it. You’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Ian smiled brightly. Mickey took the ring and slid it onto Ian’s finger. “I love you, too, Mick.”

Mickey leaned over and pecked his lips, before grabbing the bowl of limes and holding them up.

“Okay, that’s like a thousand times past my gay capacity for the day, so can we start doing body shots now?” Mickey asked, smirking.

Ian grabbed the front of Mickey’s shirt and pulled him close to his face. He took his fiancee’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulled softly, before releasing it and whispering, “Lose the shirt. I’m doing them off of you first.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked that!  
> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated!!! <3


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